


Dewdrops at Dawn

by k_ibum



Series: Where Darkness Resides [2]
Category: K-pop, SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Friendship, Light Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-28 05:37:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18204251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k_ibum/pseuds/k_ibum
Summary: A prequel to 'Where Darkness Resides' that explores the history between Minho and Taemin, and scenes not shown in the original story.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm back with another fic, this one being a short prequel explaining just what was going on between Minho and Taemin. Of course, if you're coming here without having read Where Darkness Resides, I strongly recommend reading that fic first! 
> 
> Enjoy! xoxo

It didn’t take long for him to realise the shadows were his friend as he maneuvered through the capitol, briskly but desperate to stay hidden. The night was dark, the buildings felt taller than they usually did, and the emptiness of the streets echoed with silence. All he had was a small bag slung over his shoulder, and a dagger poking from his jacket pocket. He had nowhere to go, nobody to trust, and nothing to eat.

 

Taemin was only fourteen when he ran away from home, bursting at the seams and finally deciding to no longer tolerate the utter agony that household put him through day after day. He’d always thought that the world would be so much better once he left, and this better world would present itself to him the moment he stepped outside. Heavens, he’d been so stupid. Taemin didn’t want to admit he was scared, and declared himself a seeker of ‘better’. But first he was hungry, like, totally _starving_.

 

The noble born boy had no idea what was required to successfully steal from somebody. Once he’d made his mind up he seeked out the first house without any candles lit, and felt around the windows until one shifted, unlocked. Slowly, carefully, without making a sound Taemin glided the window open and took a cautious look inside.

 

He couldn’t see anything, but figured it was safe enough. The boy stuck one lanky leg inside, then with all the grace he could muster he pulled the rest of himself in. Good. Perfect. His eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and he was relieved to confirm he hadn’t landed himself in the bedroom. That would be embarrassing, and end with him getting caught and sent back to his father. And that would just be the epitome of hell.

 

Tiptoeing across the floor, he found the kitchen like his heart had lead him to it. Each cupboard door he opened was inch by inch, as to not make a single creak, and he was smart enough to take the food which was neither heavy or capable of making noise. Bread was Taemin’s best friend now. Satisfied with his successful robbing of this random house, he called it a night. However just as Taemin turned to leave he heard the creak of a floorboard, and in an instant something cool was pressing against his neck.

 

It was his dagger.

 

Taemin sucked in a breath, and met the eyes of the man who caught him.

 

Only it wasn’t a man. No, as Taemin looked closer it was only a boy, surely not much older than himself but perhaps some amount taller. He would’ve relaxed at the realisation, if it weren’t for the dagger directed at his neck.

 

“Proclaim yourself, thief.” the stranger demanded, his voice low.

 

Taemin did the first thing he thought of. “I’m sorry!” he said as he dropped to the floor and bowed, hiding his face in his hands. “I’m just a poor kid from the streets! I haven’t eaten in days! I didn’t mean to steal!”

 

(He’d watched a real poor kid say the same words when caught sneaking into the royal kitchen. His uncle, the king at the time, had been kind enough to let him go without punishment.)

 

There was silence, just for a moment. “Uh… Well, where are your parents?”

 

“Dead.” Taemin lied dramatically, pretending his sniffle was out of sadness and not fear.

 

“Oh.”

 

Daring to lift his head from the floor, he was quietly shocked to see the once threatening older boy now standing rather lamely. The dagger too, was hanging by his side like he wasn’t sure what to do with it now. Taemin wonders what this kid’s deal is, if that’s all it takes to get him to back off.

 

And he was shocked again, when he squatted down and smiled.

 

“My name’s Minho.” he introduced himself, placing the knife on the floor and holding out his hand. “What’s yours?”  


“Tae--” he stuttered, worrying that should his father send out a search for him he’ll be discovered. Another lie, then. “Taejoon.”

 

They shook hands.

 

Minho took his bag, and placed the bread that had fallen out back in. “I have a friend whose village all died in a dragon attack. His parents, too. But he lives with me now, and he’s like an older brother.” he handed the bag back over. “Do you have another home to go to?”

 

Taemin blinked. “Um. Yeah, I think there’s somewhere I can go.”

 

Minho, this boy who’d just caught a random kid digging through someone’s kitchen, stood and dusted off his pants. The dagger momentarily forgotten. He smiled, too.

 

“It’s pretty dangerous at night. Let’s go there together.”

 

Children were always warned never to go up any of the mountains, but especially the tallest one that stood just outside the capitol’s border. They were filled with dangerous shadow creatures, that would attack any who ventured too close. Blah blah blah. It was those exact threats that encouraged Taemin to climb every mountain and explore every thicket that his legs could take him to. He might’ve been only fourteen, but he had enough magic ability to protect himself should a shadow come at him.

 

So up the tallest mountain they went. Taemin couldn’t figure out why Minho wanted to tag along, like there must be something wrong with him. It took awhile but they made it to a cave he’d found a year ago, big and wide and very far away from any person who might come looking for him.

 

“This… Is where you want to live?” poorly concealed judgement reeked from Minho’s expression.

 

But Taemin was happy. “Yep.”

 

“But what about your bed?” the older boy scratches his neck, puzzled. “Or, I dunno, a lamp? And isn’t the location kind of dangerous? Wouldn’t there be lots of shadows around here? Why didn’t we see any on our way up? Don’t you think that’s weird?”

 

Taemin was already halfway through a roll of bread when he was bombarded with Minho’s questions. He looked around. There really was nothing in here, just a floor and walls. Compared to the luxury of his nobel home, Taemin really was homeless now. But he’d much rather be in an empty, cold cave than that house ever again. He scrunched his nose, waved his hand around and summoned a ball of fire to hover in the center of the roof.

 

“Isf that beffer?” he asked, with his mouth full.

 

Minho crossed his arms. “Okay, so you’re a mage. But you still need a bed.”

 

The mage blinked, swallowed the rest of his bread, then pointed at the floor. “Here’s alright.”

 

Now, Minho sighed. “I’ll take you down the streets tomorrow, we’ll look for something together.”

 

The older boy walked closer, taking off his jacket and rolling it up. Taemin watched rather dumbly as he took a seat on the cave floor, then looked back up at him like he should be doing the same. So he did. With the fire lighting them from above, he could finally see Minho’s face properly. His eyes were round, his face small. Taemin thought he must have a lot of friends, since he’s both tall and good looking. And apparently weirdly nice, disregarding the whole dagger to the neck thing.

 

Distracted, he forgot what he should say. So Minho spoke.

 

“I’ll stay with you tonight, to protect you in case any shadows sneak in.” he declared. “But I have to get back to my uncle’s in the morning before he wakes up.”

 

“You live with your uncle?”

 

“Nah, my father and I are staying with him this weekend.” Minho explained, leaning back on his palms. “I’m from Taebaek.”

 

Taemin paused. Some part of him felt a sting of disappointment. “So… You’re going back there on Sunday?”

 

It was only Friday.

 

“Monday morning. But don’t worry!” Minho nudged him with his shoulder. “I’ll visit you tomorrow, and the next day.”

 

The disappointment shifted into discomfort, and Taemin’s brows pulled into a frown. He really couldn’t understand this guy. All these years he’d had a hard time making any kind of resemblance of friends. Nobody at school wanted to play with him because of that one time in preschool when he picked his nose and flung the booger at the girl he liked. And yet, this random guy came into his life and in the span of two hours decided to stick around for a whole weekend.

 

“Why are you being so nice?” Taemin decided to ask outright. “You don’t know me. You found me stealing from your uncle.”

 

“What you’re going through must suck, I know my brother had a rough time when his parents died.” Minho shrugged, and flashed a grin. “I dunno. Helping you is the right thing to do.”

 

The right thing to do. Taemin began to feel bad about lying, but it was too late to take it back. So he didn’t say anything when Minho called it a night, dispersing of the flame and letting the night engulf them once more.

 

“Taejoon…” he was being shaken awake. “Hey, Taejoon… I gotta go.”

 

Minho woke Taemin at a totally inhumane hour, and it took every ounce of strength for the mage not to just crash and fall back asleep. He rubbed his eyes, vaguely collected the bits of memory to recall where he was and why, and sluggishly trailed behind the older boy to the entrance.

 

“Do you… Know how to…” he yawned. “Get back?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll be okay.” Minho stopped just outside the cave. “Woah… Look at this view.”

 

Taemin had been up this mountain a fair few times now, but either once the sun was already high in the sky or in the dead of the night. He’d read, and heard about how miraculous a sunrise is yet it was only now that he fully realised just how miraculous. The sun was just peeking out of the horizon, a slight fog dusting the ground. No, it was the colours. An explosion of red and orange, vibrant against the expanding blue and white clouds. Below them, the capitol was mere silhouettes, but light slowly crept along the streets. Taemin had never seen a sight like this. And he knew, this was his home.

 

“I guess every home does have its perks.” Minho grinned at him, but he could only blink in response. “I’ll meet you here when my father lets me loose.”

 

Everything was changing.

 

“Okay.”

 

He’d thought it would be dangerous to roam the streets only a day after he ran away from home, but it appeared to him that his father hadn’t sent out a search party just yet. Of course. He was an idiot to think that his father would care enough to notice straight away that he was missing. Taemin’s mood was instantly dampened at the thought, but it was hard to stay grumpy when Minho finally returned.

 

Taemin had a stroke of genius the night before and taken some money from his mother’s secret stash, one which he only many years later realised might’ve been for her own unaccomplished escape. Beds were expensive, and he couldn’t imagine it’d be easy to drag one all the way to the cave, so he and Minho concluded it’d be more effective to buy a few travel mats and stack them. That was the beginning.

 

By the end of the day Taemin’s cave had a bed, with blankets and everything, a small bench, more food, a wooden dog ornament, and a pile of books. The books were Minho’s idea, who said it would’ve been his brother’s idea, because Taemin didn’t like to read but apparently it’s important. The older boy insisted that he’d paid for them. Taemin wasn’t very sure, for he hadn’t seen a pouch of coins anywhere in Minho’s pockets. However he wasn’t about to complain, that would just be hypocritical.

 

On Sunday, Minho had to spend the day with his father. Taemin didn’t want to be bothered because the guy he’d met only a day and a half ago was busy, so he sat in his cave and sulked about literally anything else. And then that began to suck, therefore he picked up a book and forced himself to read it. Something about knights and princesses and dragons. Taemin liked the dragons part, but didn’t really care for the rest.

 

“But if you _had_ to choose, what would it be?” Taemin grinned. “Slugs for fingers, or snails for eyes?”

 

Minho cringed, but there was laughter in his eyes. “You’re so weird. Snails for eyes doesn’t even make sense.”

 

Taemin couldn’t help it, and started laughing. “Y-Yah, eating with slug fingers would be so gross! Imagine them wriggling around while you’re picking up bread.”

 

“The slugs are _alive_?!” Minho’s round eyes turned impossibly bigger.

 

Despite needing to leave early again the next morning, the older boy stayed the night. Taemin was relieved, but didn’t say that out loud.

 

“Here, this should be sharp enough.”

 

Minho found a rock and was currently sitting in front of the cave wall, a metre or so from the bed. The mage joined him, and watched as he began carving into the wall. It seemed to take a lot of effort, but being older Minho was pretty tough. And when he’d finished, he showed off his work with a flashy grin.

 

_Tae_ _  
_ _Joon_

“Now this is officially yours.” he proclaimed, looking quite proud of himself. “How does it feel to own an entire mountain?”

 

It didn’t look quite right, though. Taemin took the rock from Minho’s hand and scrunched his face as he tried to scratch into the hard cave wall. Only when he pulled away, finally complete, did it feel right.

 

_Tae     Min  
_ _Joon    Ho_

  
He didn’t know how to say goodbye to a stranger who’d become a friend in less than three days. Dawn spread across the land, seeped into the cave, and Minho had to go. Taemin wasn’t sure of what to say, and didn’t want to seem weak or childish. After all, they were still strangers. He held onto the hope that the elder wouldn’t forget him, and he could pay him back for all he’d done.

 

“I’ll definitely come visit, whenever I’m in the capitol.” Minho promised, before the glow of sunrise. “And if you ever come to Taebaek, just ask around. Everybody knows everybody there.”

 

Taemin did his best to smile. “Yeah, okay. Thanks for… the stuff.”

 

“Stay safe, Taejoon.” the older boy reached out, and ruffed his hair.

 

And then he was gone, disappearing down amongst the trees. Taemin tried to find him in the silhouettes of the capitol’s streets, yet it was pointless.

 

Taemin never became better at saying goodbye, and he really had no idea just how many times he could say goodbye to the same person.

 

He grew up, little by little. Waiting for Minho’s return lasted roughly three months before he had to accept he wasn’t coming back. Living by stealing food was exhausting and unsatisfying, Taemin got himself a job at a tavern down in the lower town of the capitol. It was far from the capitol centre and the nosy nobles who lived within it, and the owner, Sangwoo, was a friendly man who laughed with his belly. The customers were loud and overbearing but Taemin adjusted to it, catching onto their humour and learning how to cuss. It wasn’t the best environment, but it was what he had.

 

Two years passed him by before he had the time to look back. His father had stopped any searches for him long ago. The young noble boy he once was, was no more. Taemin was sixteen now.

Another night at the tavern, serving drinks and wiping down tables. Taemin had just finished the usual banter with a usual customer when a group entered the bar, and he recognised them instantly as knight trainees. It was that time of year again, where the wave of young men with too much confidence for their tiny brains would come swinging in to brag about their valiant futures. Taemin had thought they were pretty admirable once, when he was a child fed with a silver spoon. Now he wasn’t stupid. His uncle might’ve ruled the kingdom but there was no standards when it came to who guarded the streets. As if simply being noble born could make someone worthy. No, the majority of the men in armour wore it for more control and power, while blindly following their king’s every word.

 

Bitter and young, Taemin watched with thinly veiled distaste as the knights in training waltzed into the tavern and took over a booth. But then his eyes fell upon a certain face. His heart stopped. Two years could change somebody, but while there was obvious change he knew who it was.

 

Minho.

 

It just had to be him, too, who left the booth and approached the bar to order. Taemin did anything except watch him, remaining somewhat nonchalant as he wiped down a glass for the third time in a row. But it was too late.

 

“Taejoon?” that voice called, and he looked up to meet the gaze of the boy he’d met two years ago. Only now, he was probably an adult. A man. “Are you Taejoon?”

 

Taemin glanced around to ensure nobody was listening in. Since joining the tavern, he’d been going by his real name.

 

“Yeah. Minho?” he asked as if he needed reassuring, and the way Minho’s expression enlightened with a beaming smile made him smile, too. “Long time no see.”

 

“Wow. This is wild.” Minho took a seat at the bar, leaning on his forearms. “It’s really you? How long has it been?”

 

“I don’t know,” the mage lied with a laugh. “A while.”

 

“You’re so much... taller now!” the training knight gawked. “Holy shit. And you have a job, that’s great!”

 

Taemin attempted subtly as he checked Minho out, whose arms were now thicker and more defined. His face too, was slimmer and his jawline stronger. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, given Minho’s energetic personality and the fact he was good looking even at sixteen. At least his smile was the same.

 

And so Minho launched into a retelling of all that he’d been up to in the last couple years. Finishing school was one thing, and now he was obviously training to become a knight. The final part of training always took place in the capitol, which explained the sudden growth in population. Apparently Minho had arrived three days ago, and Taemin swallowed back any childish grudge about him not visiting the cave yet. He’d been busy. He actually had a life and exciting things happening.

 

“So, yeah… I’m either doing shifts here or at home.” Taemin shrugged cooly, making another customer’s drink. He wondered when Minho would remember about his friends who were still waiting in the booth.

 

“Are you still at the same place?” Minho asked casually, as if it were just another house.

 

Taemin hummed. “It looks a lot better than it used to.”

 

“I’ll come by tomorrow.” the trainee knight determined, just as an impatient friend was beginning to approach him. “Does three o’clock work for you?”

 

Before Taemin could respond, Minho’s trainee friend pushed in. “I apologise on behalf of my buddy Minho, here. It’s been a while since he last flirted with somebody.”

 

Taemin stared.

 

“Anyway, we’re after four ciders…”

 

He was too busy noting the order to pay attention the Minho’s reaction, though he could tell there was a lot of spluttering. Taemin inwardly sighed, too numb inside to really care, and when the friend finally buggered off he agreed to Minho’s self invitation. He had a lot of drinks to make, and no time to ponder over what kind of knight the boy he met two years ago was becoming.

 

Minho kept his promise and arrived at the cave a few minutes early. The way Taemin madly cleaned up beforehand was kind of lame, really, considering this was probably the one and only time the knight in training was going to visit. But he wanted to show off, prove that he didn’t end up a total waste of space. His cave had shelves and desks now, and more importantly a real bed. It had been a hassle to get the objects up the mounting, alone since he’d wanted to keep his home a secret, but he’d managed. Living in a mountain could make one very athletic, whether they want to be or not.

 

“You weren’t not wrong, it looks a whole lot better.” Minho complimented, walking around the space to touch random objects and peek at the now extensive collection of books. “I guess you’ve done well for yourself. I couldn’t believe you still lived here, but it passes as a real home now.”

 

Taemin was normally more talkative, but something about the whole situation made him nervous. “It gets really cold in winter. I have to use up a ton of magic to not, like, die of frostbite or something.”

 

“You’ve come really far since we met.” it was another compliment, he assumed. Or maybe it wasn’t. Minho turned to look at him as he continued. “What did we even do here, when we weren’t causing havoc in the streets?”

 

He couldn’t hold back a smile. “Talked about random shit.”

 

“Oh yeah, like how to hide a body.” Minho snorted. “I couldn’t believe how much you knew for a fourteen year old.”

 

Realising Minho didn’t entirely forget everything was more relieving than he’d like to admit. He stayed for a few hours, and the more they talked the easier it was for Taemin to forget the endless months he’d spent thinking Minho had fallen seriously ill and died. The elder talked a lot about school, and about all the girls who’d fallen for his so-called charms. Taemin couldn’t relate to the whole schooling thing, but he did mention the one girl who worked at the tavern with him, Hyoyeon. She, however, was only interested in teasing him. Still, it felt good to have something to share and not sound like the total loner he was.

 

Minho left before sunset, and Taemin was ready to never see him again. But the knight returned again two days later, then again, and again. It became a habit to see him every second or so day, and when they talked closer into the night Minho would walk with him to the tavern. It was nice. It was strange. Taemin reminded himself that it was only temporary, but the voice of reason slipped further away each night.

 

Their first argument happened because of a book.

 

Minho allegedly decided to look through Taemin’s book collection, as if he had any real interest in any of them. He’d thought nothing of it. Then the knight in training stumbled upon the wrong title.

 

“Taejoon…” he looked up at the name, and blinked at the serious shadows casted over Minho’s face. “This… This is a book about dark magic.”

 

Shit.

 

Taemin had, admittedly, started dabbling into dark magic last year when winter was getting real difficult and his mood was sinking. There were spells that would use the magic of darkness rather than the earth, and were a lot stronger. He never considered the messed up spells. Only what he needed.

 

That didn’t change the fact that any use of dark magic was prohibited by death. And the man standing before him was a loyal follower of the king.

 

“It-It is.” Taemin started pathetically, standing. “But I only read it.”

 

“You only _read it_? What is that supposed to mean?” his friend stepped forward, holding up the book by the spine. “You shouldn’t even own this. Dark magic is dangerous, you could kill somebody with this shit.”

 

“I wouldn’t kill anybody!” he was just being ridiculous now. To even suggest he’d do such a thing proved Minho was still a stranger. “What the fuck, Minho. I’m a fucking mage, I have to read about magic. It doesn’t mean I practice everything I read.”

 

Minho shook his head. “If you don’t practice it, why would you need to read it?”

 

Then Taemin realised he was lying again. Despite the guilt, he was more angry about the accusation. “Wow, I don’t know. Maybe because I’m living in a mountain literally surrounded by shadows? Maybe because it’s important to know how dark magic is used incase I come across someone who wants to use it against me?”

 

Minho paused, and took an obvious breath of air. He’d never looked this threatening, and that was counting those years ago when there was a dagger in his hand. This time, it felt so much more perilous.

 

“You…” Minho looked away, brows pinching together. “You promise? Can you promise me you’re not practicing dark magic, that you’re only reading this for your own safety?”

 

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d lied. A part of Taemin knew it wouldn’t be the last, either.

 

“I promise, Minho.”

 

The dynamic between them shifted that day. As clear as it’d become to Taemin that the man he called his friend was loyal to the king above all else, it likely became clear to Minho that the boy in the cave wasn’t the same one he’d met. To change while separated made them clash awkwardly when they reunited, like the parts that used to fit were now all wrong.

 

They walked together to the tavern again, conversation loose and mostly filled with long pauses of silence. It wasn’t until they reached the tavern that Minho stopped, and held Taemin’s wrist back.

 

“Taejoon, I’m…” then he let go of his wrist, instead scratching his neck. “I’m sorry, about earlier.”

 

Maybe Taemin should’ve told him the truth. That while he practiced dark magic, not all dark magic was used for bad. Not all white magic was used for good. There’d been a stubborn line drawn between the two forms when there should be none at all.

 

“It’s fine.” he replied instead, and something hurts.

 

“It’s not fine, I accused you of… Of a terrible crime.” And there it was. Minho’s apology was, in the end, one still intertwined with ignorance. He’d never understand as long as a king sat in the throne and told his people what to think.

 

The knight then stepped closer, and before Taemin could process what was happening he was being pulled into a hug. Taemin stood, rigid, as Minho’s big arms wrapped around him. Then his heart started thudding against his ribs, his breath caught. When air returned to his brain he remembered normal people return hugs, and placed his arms around the older boy’s torso. He wasn’t so much smaller than Minho like he used to be, but the fit was still awkward. His own arms were too thin. The warmth radiating from Minho’s chest was suffocating.

 

The embrace ended a short moment later.

 

“Have a good shift.” Minho pulled back, and smiled as he ruffled Taemin’s hair. “I’ll see you on Thursday, okay?”

 

Taemin nodded once. “Okay.”

 

Minho disappeared up the street, seemingly unaffected by something that had just winded Taemin.

 

The new emotion stirring in his chest made everything so much more complicated.

 

They spent more time exploring the capitol than at Taemin’s, and the intense increase in socialisation and simply being outside was a little overwhelming. Somehow, being with Minho made it tolerable. Whenever they bumped into strangers it’d be Minho who did all the talking and swoon every passerby off their feet. Taemin felt like a weird sidekick trailing at his side sometimes, but overall he couldn’t complain. They ate street food, laughed at comedians performing in the street, and for nostalgia’s sake bought a stack of cards that Taemin had been drooling over when they’d first gone shopping two years ago.

 

It was always at home where Taemin felt most content.

 

“I remember watching the sunrise from here, that first time.” Minho contemplated. “I was too cool then to say how beautiful it was. I’m still too cool.”

 

Taemin snorted. “You were never cool.”

 

They sat together at the cave entrance, watching the sun sink into the horizon. For once Taemin didn’t need to work, and Minho was free of training responsibilities. Lazing about felt like the perfect way to spend the evening.

 

“I never asked you... about your parents.” Minho began suddenly yet slowly, catching Taemin by surprise. “It’s getting close to the anniversary now, right?”

 

Taemin hummed in response, pulling his knees to his chest.

 

“What… were they like?” the knight paused, cautious. “If… you don’t mind me asking.”

 

Maybe he didn't have to lie this time. After all, he’d never suggested his parents were saints, simply that they were dead. And they are, technically, dead to him.

 

“They were assholes.” Taemin stated bluntly, and it felt good to tell the truth. In addition, the quiet shock on Minho’s face was oddly satisfying. “My father was a dictating, violent brute and my mother a pathetic alcoholic who knew every insult in the book. Nobody deserves to die, but I don’t really miss them.”

 

Minho hesitated, then replied simply. “Oh.”

 

He had to laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you were expecting me to talk about my mother’s cooking or my father’s jokes. Unfortunately not everybody gets the cookie-cutter family.”

 

A minute passed between them, then the knight spoke. “Are you happier now?”

 

Taemin flickered his gaze to Minho. He seemed genuinely concerned, maybe a little sorry. The mage was glad he hadn’t started his reply with an apology. That, to Taemin, always felt like the most scripted words to use when hearing of someone else’s misfortune. Not that people spoke to him about his life story, ever.

 

“I’m happier.” he might’ve felt numb at times, or angry at the world. But it was still better than where he’d come from. “Living alone is freeing.”

 

Orange splayed over Minho’s face, the sunset at its peak. Taemin wanted to tell him everything. He wanted to accept the hand that was being extended.

 

“I’m glad.” Minho smiled, and they let the conversation end there.

 

Taemin only realised afterwards that was the first time he’d spoken of his parents since he’d ranaway. The first time, ever, he’d told someone honestly how they’d treated him. So much of his childhood was spent hiding, he felt a pang of fear that his teenage years were going to be the same.

 

Minho spent his last night in the capitol with Taemin, much to the mage’s surprise. They joked about as they rolled out the old travel mats and stacked them up beside Taemin’s bed, and Minho failed at making his mother’s special vegetable soup. The smell filling the cave was so bad they had to leave the cave, which resulted in a race to the bottom and back up again. Minho, despite his athleticism and incredibly competitive nature, had no chance against the mage who’d climbed the mountain for years.

 

Everything good ends. They fell asleep late and woke up early, in time to watch the sunrise. It felt like deja vu, having Minho leave at the crack of dawn.

 

“I’m going to be a full time knight when I get back home.” Minho started awkwardly, hovering at the entrance. “I’m not sure when--”

 

“We talked about it already, Minho.”

 

The fact that crossing paths wasn’t liking to happen for some time. Minho would have no reason to go to the capitol unless something drastic occured in the kingdom, and neither of them could just get up and leave their positions where they were.

 

“Chill out, really.” Taemin nudged him, albeit enjoying the older boy’s small pout. “We’ll catch up sometime.”

 

It was a false hope, not dissimilar from last time. Minho was going back to his home with his friends, to see all his other friends and family. He had a whole life set up for him, a line of potential wives to complete his noble knight life. Again, it was Taemin being left alone. Again, it was Taemin who’d be just a speck amongst the great achievers. He didn’t want to get angry. He didn’t want to ruin the last moment he’d share with Minho.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Minho reached out and instead of ruffling Taemin’s hair he lightly stroked it, hand trailing down and lingering on his neck before he pulled back. Taemin wasn’t sure what he was doing, but did what he felt.

 

This was going to be the last he saw of Minho. Minho, who was taking everything and leaving him with nothing. Minho, who confused him and comforted him and gave him a friend when he’d thought he’d never have one.

 

He closed the distance between them. He stood slightly, only slightly, on his toes. He placed a hand on Minho’s neck and felt the heat of the red sunrise between his fingertips. He kissed him. Their lips met, slow and unsure. As much as he yearned to believe there was a tomorrow for them, he knew it was futile. So he claimed this moment, this today, as he claimed Minho’s lips for one innocent kiss. That was all he needed. No, all he needed was the confirming hand now on his hip. His heart raced. The kiss ended.

 

Taemin was good at ruining things.

 

In spite of that, Minho was smiling when they pulled apart.

 

“Stay happy, Taejoon.”

 

Again, Minho turned and disappeared down into the trees.

 

Taemin watched the sunrise, orange and red and yellow and blue.

 

The day began, and his life with Minho came to an end.

  



	2. PART TWO

Life moved on, Taemin moved on. Despite his pessimism a part of Taemin did wait for Minho’s return, or a letter, or anything. But time went by and the further away those memories were, the easier it was to think of other things.

 

So Taemin moved on.

 

It started going downhill again when Sangwoo died. The tavern owner had fallen very ill, very quickly, and proved himself to be yet another person who’d walk out of Taemin’s life. He’d tried not to be bitter, it wasn’t Sangwoo who chose to be sick. Nobody really woke up and thought they’d like to be painfully weakened until their heart stopped beating. When the funeral day arrived though, Taemin wanted someone to be angry at. He chose himself.

 

The funeral wasn’t large, but the people there were those who’d genuinely loved and cared for Sangwoo. That man, who everybody thought would live to be one hundred. That man, who never had the chance to marry and have children. Taemin stood at the back and watched familiar faces mourn, fully grown men weeping. One person had that much impact on so many people. Taemin should’ve taken more shifts, and let his boss live his life. He should’ve cleaned the glasses better and he shouldn’t have taken advantage of what Sangwoo gave him.

 

There was a gathering at the tavern afterwards, drinking in honor of the former owner. Taemin stayed there until everybody eventually left. Everybody, except one.

 

“It’s stupid.” he mumbled, staring at his empty glass. “I never realised how important he was. I didn’t do shit for him when he’d given a random kid from the streets a living.”

 

Hyoyeon eyed him from the other side of the table, chin in her palm. “He was generous to all of us, nobody could’ve repaid that much kindness.” she said. “But, hey, I think he kinda understood you. That’s why he chose you to take over this place.”

 

It was too late to wonder what Sangwoo might’ve thought of Taemin’s past. They’d never discussed it. They never will.

 

Taemin took a long look around the tavern, the tables and the bar and the incredible emptiness of it all. “I can’t do what he did, Hyo. I’m going to run it into the ground.”

 

“Idiot, you don’t have to copy him.” the woman reached forward, and punched his shoulder. “You do you, he wouldn’t have handed it over if he didn’t believe you could handle it.”

 

He frowned. “I guess.”

 

“Although, if I was going to suggest anything…” Hyoyeon’s lips curved into a grin. “How about getting some pretty dancer ladies in here? Hm?”

 

Life stood still for a few days, before the gears started grinding and it moved on once more.

 

(His mother died a month later, the cause to the public being a tragic heart attack. Taemin didn’t know what to think. He didn’t want to think at all. Her noble funeral summoned hundreds from the capitol. He didn’t attend. She was already too far away.)

 

(His uncle died, and then his auntie. Taemin’s father rose to the throne and for the first time he felt genuine concern for the kingdom.)

 

The rumours were unintentional, at first. There were a few instances over the years wherein people would wander up the mountain, a little too close to the cave, and Taemin would have to summon a wave of magic to scare them away. Not as obvious as it sounds, it was more like whispers and tugging of the mind, shivers up the spine. When a group of ratty kids snuck too close he decided enough was enough. Taemin wanted his privacy, so he began spreading word at the tavern that a powerful dark mage lived in the mountain.

 

He didn’t expect it to blow up in his face.

 

There were some advantages to owning the tavern, the main one being having possession of the bedroom upstairs. Taemin crashed there when he had the closing shift and couldn’t be bothered hawling his tired ass up the mountain. But Hyoyeon was in a tight spot now, and he had to offer it to her. Because he was generous. Or because it was what Sangwoo would’ve done.

 

It was his last chance to sleep in the room before she moved in. Taemin worked with a quietly dampened attitude that night, even though he still cracked the same jokes. Maybe he wasn’t as bummed about losing the room as he was that the one resemblance he had of a friend was having a hard time. He wasn’t going to admit that out loud.

 

The door swung open, and a chorus of voices filed in. Knights. Great. King Hyunmin had ordered for all knights and serving mages to move to the capitol, in order to provide better protection for the kingdom. What a joke. It was obvious he was only thinking of his own royal ass. Taemin sucked in a breath and prepared himself for the onslaught of arrogance as the group took the entire row of seats at the bar. Great. Knights. That was exactly where he wanted them.

 

“What can I get for you tonight, men?” Taemin cracked his usual grin, looking to the one straight in front of him.

 

It wasn’t until he looked to each of them as they ordered, that he finally saw. The seventh of the group, at the end. Small face, round eyes. Those lips. Minho. Taemin bit back any visual reaction and nodded when the person he thought he’d never see again ordered. As if they were strangers. As if it hadn’t already been three years since they said goodbye.

 

Three years.

 

“So,” he robotically turned back to the guy in the middle. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

 

“Oh, nah.” the guy laughed. “We’re from Taebaek, here to serve the king! And our first mission is to catch the dark mage.”

 

“Really, now.” Taemin replied, somewhat dryly. He started on the first drink.

 

“Yeah, you know it.” a second knight said, but he didn’t really know what it was he was supposed to know. “That dark mage has been causing havoc far too long!”

 

“He’s been causing illness!” said a third.

 

“Terrorising the ladies!” exclaimed a fourth.

 

“Kidnapping children!” another voice said, and Taemin glanced to see it was Minho.

 

Oh.

 

“He lives in the mountain.” the knight in the middle spoke like it was new information. “We just have to attack at the right time!”

 

The second knight grinned, wicked. “And we’ll have him burned, at the stake!”

 

The men all cheered, four of them clinking their already served drinks. Taemin worked on the fifth drink, eyeing Minho. As exhilarated as he been the moment he saw the man, it’d quickly changed to disappointment. So this was the kind of knight he’d become.

 

That was his mountain. Their mountain. And yet Minho was cheering along with his knight pals about executing the supposed dark mage who lived there. Something inside him broke. He hadn’t allowed himself to imagine their possible reunion often, but it was certainly never like this.

 

Minho looked different, and his stare felt foreign. He probably hadn’t recognised Taemin yet, hell he wouldn’t put it past the knight to have forgotten about him completely. But it was possible that he’d remember, he’d recognise. And then he’d be telling his knight friends. He’d tell the king. Taemin would be found out, and burned at the stake for crimes he couldn’t possibly have done.

 

Taemin wasn’t thinking. He poured Minho’s glass, and as the men were caught up in their ridiculous bragging he cast a spell. So that Minho wouldn’t recognise his face, and connect him to the boy he met five years ago. He wasn’t thinking as he did it, and only realised when he was passing the glass over to the knight.

 

Minho locked eyes with him, then. Taemin’s heart skipped a beat. No, he couldn’t possibly remember him. And even if he did, there was no way he’d believe his innocent.

 

He was a servant of King Hyunmin, now.

 

How typical, that it’d be Hyunmin who finally took Minho from him.

 

Taemin watched as Minho took his first sip, the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallowed. That was that, then. So much for the rant he had scripted and ready to throw at the knight’s face.

 

The night continued on, and when the tavern started to fill up there was enough for Taemin to do to keep his mind off the man sitting at the bar. He unwillingly noticed everything, too. The first time they reunited, the young and naive Taemin had marvelled over how much Minho had physically changed in the two years apart. But that was nothing compared to now. Now, Minho really was a man. Somehow even taller than before, with thick arms and strong hands. His face was slimmer, voice deeper. His smile, however, was always the same.

 

Which Taemin could confirm, especially with said knight sitting with his chin in his palms and a very big grin on his face. Also, notably, staring directly at the bartender.

 

“Hey.” Minho said, his voice slurred with alcohol. “What are you doing later?”

 

Taemin stared. “Probably escorting you out of my tavern.”

 

The friend beside Minho started laughing, and leaned in to whack Minho on the shoulder. “Sorry about my poor buddy here. It’s been a long time since he last flirted… Successfully.”

 

He blinked at the sense of deja vu, and now recognised the friend as the same one from three years ago.

 

“Oh, hey!” the friend seemed to draw the same conclusion. “You’re the bartender he was hitting up here last time, right?” the friend then laughed again. “How embarrassing for you, Minho.”

 

Minho frowned heavily at Taemin, then looked to his friend. “I don’t remember him.”

 

“Man, you must’ve been pretty wounded…”

 

And that, solved that.

 

Taemin hoped that exchange would be the last one, ever, but the knight had other plans. He continued to take orders, serve, and crack jokes with the regular customers. But every now and then Minho would attempt to make conversation about literally anything. Taemin’s buttons. Taemin’s height. What Taemin was going to have for breakfast the next day. It was driving him insane, and the evident irritation on his face only egged Minho on more.

 

He wasn’t wrong, earlier. Minho hung back when his friends all left, and continued to loiter around until he was the only customer left in the tavern. With just the two of them, Taemin knew he should definitely kick the knight out. Definitely. But first, he had to wipe down the tables. And then, he had to put up the chairs at which point Minho started to try and help out with. He didn’t look as drunk anymore, and hadn’t spoken for at least fifteen minutes.

 

A part of him kept wishing the spell hadn’t worked. That part was dangerous. Taemin didn’t acknowledge it.

 

“Do you know where the knight’s guild is?” Minho said softly, standing uncertainty in the middle of the tavern. It was weird, witnessing him switch attitudes like this. “I forgot.”

 

“I don’t.” Taemin lied. He was always lying.

 

The knight stood there, scratching his neck, a familiar habit that tugged at something stuck in his chest.

 

“There’s a bedroom here you can use.” the mage continued, gesturing to the door with his head. “Come on.”

 

Therefore, Taemin lead a still intoxicated Minho up the stairs to the bedroom. Minho, who he hadn’t seen in years. Minho, who disappeared and reappeared and now couldn’t even remember all the hurt he’d caused. It was too exhausting to think about. The bedroom was a lot smaller than the tavern, the walls closed in.

 

He turned to check on Minho, to find the knight directly behind him and then in his face. The proximity caused his cheeks to heat up. Shit. Taemin wasn’t a sixteen year old anymore, he didn’t have time for this. Yet he couldn’t move, Minho’s intense gaze holding him in his place.

 

“You’re really handsome.” Minho mumbled, a hand lifting to touch one of his cheeks. Heat against heat. Taemin tried to catch his breath, and caught Minho’s instead. “But why do you look so sad?”

 

“I’m not--”

 

A thumb lifted his chin. “I can help you.”

 

Minho’s breath. The smell of alcohol. They were so close, and the knight was only leaning closer. And Taemin remembered that morning before the sun, his innocent moment of greed, the kiss that was meant to be goodbye. He could imagine kissing Minho now, despite how angry he was at him for forgetting and himself for wiping those memories. Kissing Minho now wouldn’t be right. It would feel so good, but he’d hate himself in the morning.

 

“No.” he said, soft but sure.

 

“Okay.” was all Minho said before he stepped back, heavy gaze lingering, then walked towards the bed.

 

It was that simple.

 

“Thanks for letting me crash.” and suddenly the prior tension was released, the knight sending a casual grin. “We’ve only been here a couple days. I promise I wasn’t trying to just get into bed with you.”

 

Taemin found himself chuckling. “Okay, sure.”

 

“But the offer still stands.” it seemed to be the opposite, as Minho clumsily collapsed into bed. He stretched out comfortably, both hands behind his head.

 

Taemin watched from the same spot, crossing his arms. “Right.”

 

“You’re welcome, thank you, I am a true gentleman.” Minho roughly pat the space beside him, staring back expectantly. “Are you coming?”

 

It was a headache, trying to keep up with the intoxicated knight’s constant shifts in personality. Taemin only got into bed because he had nowhere else to sleep if it was an hour’s climb to the cave. He only took his shirt off because it was summer and fucking hot with the firepit that was Minho sleeping beside him. Sleeping, very heavily and very quickly. Minho passed out in approximately five seconds because he was drunk and because to him it was just a stranger he was sharing the bed with.

 

Taemin made a pointed effort to sleep with his back to the knight. An futile effort, considering he barely slept.

 

Which meant that he heard when Minho woke up the next morning, groaning with what must’ve been a killer hangover. Cursing, for what must’ve been his realisation he was at some random dude’s house instead of the guild. Then finally, the rush to stumble out the room and ultimately ditch the tavern.

 

He opened his eyes, and turned to look at the empty space beside him.

 

So, that was the man Minho became.

 

Approximately one week and two days later, Minho made his return to the tavern. Taemin didn’t know if he was disappointed or impressed when the knight walked in, alone rather than with his usual gang of lesser minded individuals. Whatever. Taemin shook off any emotion that tried attach itself to him and walked over to the booth Minho had claimed, handing the knight a glass of cider.

 

Minho looked up with wide eyes, and Taemin couldn’t tell if the knight was faking his shock or not. He took the cider anyway, holding it awkwardly with both hands.

 

“Long time no see.” Taemin began, leaning back in the seat across him with lazy confidence. “I thought knights were supposed to be… What was it? True gentlemen? Yet you left and didn’t even leave a note?”

 

“Uh, yeah.” Minho stared at him, then averted his gaze, then stared at him again. “Look, I just needed to ask if we, uh, you know…”

 

Weird. Taemin said nothing and waited.

 

“If we… You know…” Minho gestured hopelessly to the air.

 

“I don’t know,” upon understanding what it was Minho was getting at he played along jokingly, tapping his chin. “Did we? You know?”

 

Minho sighed at this, and took a chug of his drink. “Fine. I wanted to let you know that I’m not into men like that, just in case we did.”

 

Taemin couldn’t help but laugh. “You waited for more than a week after spending the night in a guy’s bed to let him know you don’t like men?”

 

“I didn’t mean to--”

 

“Because you certainly seemed eager enough when you were drunk.” Taemin continued, not caring if anyone around them heard. And then, something clicked. “Oh shit, of course. You’re a traditionalist.”

 

“What?” Minho spluttered. “I-I’m not a traditionalist.”

 

“You so fucking are. You know the whole ‘nobles should marry straight’ thing died out years ago, right? Unless… You were thinking you could have a one night stand and have it mean nothing? Right on, Minho. You really are a gentleman.”

 

The knight looked increasingly uncomfortable, his cheeks turning red. “No need to make me sound like an ass because I’m not interested in you.”

 

Taemin sucked in a breath, closed his eyes, and said a tiny prayer to the heavens to bless him with patience. Poor, pitiful Minho. Blind to the real world, a pathetic dog obeying his master’s orders. Following years old, long forgotten traditions. He was really testing him today, but Taemin found a strength within.

 

“I forgive you.” Taemin declared, like a release of air. “But only if we can be best friends.”

 

Minho frowned. “What.”

 

It was strange, and sudden, but that was how the back and forth of their second friendship began. Taemin got his kick out of being annoying to Minho, all the while staying up to date with the knight’s life and wellbeing. Because the sixteen year old Taemin still cherished the eighteen year old Minho, and even if the knight looked at him with disdain now it was better than never seeing him for another three years.

 

Taemin was stupid and complicated like that.

 

Skipping forward a fair few months, Taemin had the pleasure of meeting Minho’s ‘real best friend’. Granted, the knight didn’t know that Taemin knew about the brotherly bond they shared. Jinki was exactly how Taemin had imagined Minho would turn out. Kind, patient, not a jerk, handsome in a humble way and not an arrogant ‘you must’ve slept with me because I’m so charming’ way. It was a shame Jinki already seemed to have a boyfriend, or Taemin might’ve asked him to stay the night just to spite Minho.

 

Things got complicated with Jinki and Kibum caught him in the cave. Something about going behind Minho’s back to help his best friend’s boyfriend practice dark magic felt wrong, but he concluded that was a problem for Jinki, not him.

 

(Besides, for the first time in years he was making friends. And Jinki turned out being way too nice for Taemin to ever consider dating, with or without Kibum at his hip. But they were cool dudes, and his friends. Practicing dark magic was just their fun friendship past time.)

 

At least, he thought it wasn’t his problem. With all the bragging Minho had done over the months, Taemin never expected him to go up the mountain all by himself.

 

He didn’t know it was Minho at first, and in the unpreparedness had summoned his usual shroud of darkness. He should’ve known it was Minho, with the way the knight walked straight up to the cave without a moment’s hesitation. Taemin saw him clearly as Minho stepped inside, trying to glare through the darkness only he could see.

 

“Come out!” Minho called out boldly, staring straight through Taemin. The mage moved quietly, keeping his distance.

 

“Reveal yourself. Or is the dark mage afraid of a mere knight?”

 

That arrogance, that determined anger. It really would’ve been pointless to tell Minho the truth from the beginning, about his real identity. However there seemed to be little time left for him to keep this secret.

 

“So what is a mere knight going to do?” Taemin taunted, creeping closer.

 

“Tell me where the children are.”

 

“If I don’t tell you, will you kill me?”

 

A beat of silence.

 

“I’ll take you to the king, and he will judge you by the law.”

 

“Oh.”

 

That was it, then. At least the knight wasn’t a bloodthirsty idiot. Taemin took one last free look at Minho before stepping back and dropping the curtain of darkness. Minho met his gaze immediately, and he watched as the memory spell unravelled layer by layer. Moment by moment. Happening all too fast but not soon enough. 

 

“Y-You…” Minho was hurt, and he was confused. Now the truth was revealed. “Taejoon...?”

 

Taemin frowned, not knowing what to say. “I’m sorry, Minho.”

 

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll find them myself.”

 

Minho resolved, and left to begin digging through Taemin’s belongings. As if he hid the children under his bed, behind his bookcases, literally anywhere that wasn’t the exact spot Taemin stood. He was desperate, tossing things out of the way. As if it’d also toss away the memories that were swallowing his brain.

 

And then, finally. The writing in the wall glared at both men.

 

_Tae        Min  
_ _Joon       Ho_

 

“I lied to you about my name, when we first met.” Taemin spoke from behind him, attempting to explain himself. “I was a nobleman’s son… Anyone who knew me would’ve taken me back straight away.”

 

Minho shook his head, fingers tracing the messily scrawled letters. “Why… Why do I only recognise you now?”

 

Taemin bit his lip. “I… Kind of spelled you. You came by the tavern with your knight friends talking all this shit about the dark mage and I knew you’d recognise me so I made sure you wouldn’t. Not until you came here, to the cave.”

 

“So you are the dark mage…” Minho turned to face Taemin, something stabbing through his heart. “What happened to you?”

 

“I’m not--” the mage sighed, a hand in his hair. “I don’t have the kids, Minho. Maybe I practice a bit of dark magic and maybe I made up some stupid rumors so people would leave me alone but I’m not what they say I am. You of all people should know I wouldn’t do that messed up shit.”

 

“You’re right, Taejoon wouldn’t do this.” he agreed, albeit with a scoff. “Taejoon wouldn’t spell me, either.”

 

That was enough. Taemin picked up a book that had landed at his feet, and threw it at Minho’s idiotic, tiny ass head. The knight cursed at the impact, then his face contorted into a mixture of shock and anger. 

 

“I waited for you, asshole. When I heard the knights were being summoned to city I waited for you to show up, and you never did. Then the first time I see you after however many years, you’re talking with your friends about _hunting me down_? What was I supposed to do?”

 

“You promised you weren’t practicing dark magic.” their first argument, when Minho had discovered that book. Taemin couldn’t believe it was being used against him again. “You lied to me then, and you’re lying to me now.”

“You’re the one who let me down.” Taemin stared right at him, not backing down. “I don’t hurt anyone with my magic.”

 

The cave was but a weak echo of what it once was, and who once dwelled within it. Even with his memories of all those years, Taemin couldn’t recognise the man before him. This angry, accusing Minho.

 

“You hurt me.”

 

“Fuck, Minho. Don’t start with this dramatic pity shit.” the mage wished there was something else he could throw at him. “You left me! Every single time! For years! _I don’t owe you anything_.”

 

And Minho didn’t deserve to tell him what _Taejoon_ would’ve done. Taemin knew himself better than anyone, especially Minho. The knight didn’t know anything.

 

Minho stood there, chest heaving with every breath, his eyes unforgiving. “Have you been tricking Jinki, too? After I told you how precious he is to me?”

 

“Heavens.” Taemin groaned, darkness flickering from the cave walls. “Leave, and ask Jinki yourself.”

 

All the pent up emotions. The thoughts and the memories that he’d kept hidden behind those walls. Anger at his father. His mother. Minho. Everyone in his life was set on betraying him. Taemin wanted to explode.

 

“No. I want answers--”

 

“LEAVE.”

 

Fire from the candles overflowed in a burst of flames that spread across the entirety of the cave walls. The space between them filled with intense heat and light, Taemin witnessing as Minho’s defensive stance replaced with fear. The magic pulled back no longer than five seconds later, but the damage was already dealt.

 

“Fine.”

 

The knight picked up his sword, his shield, gave one last fierce glare before carrying his own storm out of the cave.

Taemin watched the silhouette disappear amongst the trees, then looked around the cave.

 

And he was alone, again.  

 

He hadn’t felt this uncertain of himself for years. King Hyunmin then made his move on the dark mage, and Taemin was forced to leave the cave for good. He collected everything important to him into bags, Jinki and Kibum helping where they could.

 

Taemin halted at the sight of a particular carving in the wall. If the king’s men were planning on camping out here, they were bound to spot the names eventually. He lowered to a crouch, palm against the wall and the memory they’d drawn. When he pulled away the carving was gone, and so was a piece of his heart.

 

He’d lingered as they fled the mountain, to catch the mighty knights and mages climbing amongst the trees. Minho was somewhere there, with them. Why had he warned Jinki? What was Minho thinking, taking the path to the cave he’d visited so many times? What was he feeling?

 

Would he notice the empty space on the wall?

 

(His final goodbye to the cave, his home of so many years, was less than two weeks later, after Jungah tainted it with her evil. Taemin had been beyond angry about a lot of things that morning, so once Kibum was safe and out he had no problem setting the entire cave on fire from the inside. The bodies, the memories, evaporated by flame. Something about it still hurt, but Taemin was numb to hurting now.)

 

(The sun had been rising. There was no time to watch the colors dance across the sky this time.)

 

Revealing to his friends that he was, in fact, King Hyunmin’s son was a mental journey in itself. Taemin wasn’t sure how his friends would respond, but he was shocked most of all by Kibum taking out some expensive wine and suggesting they drink their problems away. This, was Taemin’s style. And he was totally ready to go with the flow.

 

In the span of one night, Taemin found out that Jinki and Kibum actually weren’t in a relationship, Minho was pathetic at arm wrestling while drunk, and getting drunk really was the better alternative to talking about the impending doom of the kingdom. Yet he’d noticed too, that Minho had been switching between being friendly like the old days before correcting himself and acting distant again. Taemin had sighed heavily to himself, when the ‘not couple’ took themselves outside and Minho was the first to escape to his room.

 

Taemin really, really didn’t want to talk about his feelings.

 

Minho was sitting on the edge of his bed when he walked in, head in his hands. The knight looked up at the sound of the door opening, and seemingly snapped out of whatever he was thinking about as he stood to his feet.

 

There was a moment of silence between them, and Taemin just wanted to end it without a fight.

 

“I didn’t tell you Hyunmin was my father.” he said, closing the door behind him. “I didn’t tell you because I was a kid, and I was scared, and at that time he was powerful enough as a noble to drag me back to that house.”

 

Minho seemed to consider this, then dropped his gaze to the floor. “Even the first words you spoke to me were a lie.”

 

The space between them was hushed with hurt, soft with uncertainty. Maybe Minho didn’t feel like fighting, either. Maybe the near loss of a friend had sobered something between them.

 

“I lied a lot.” Taemin couldn’t count how many times. “By the time I considered telling you the truth it felt… I don’t know… like it was too late.”

 

“It’s never too late to tell the truth.” the knight replied. “But you told me about your parents. When you said they weren’t good to you… Did you mean it?”

 

“Yeah.” Taemin felt it like a rush, the reminder of the pain both his parents had inflicted on him. What Hyunmin continued to do to him. “Guess I should’ve seen the whole evil king thing coming.”

 

“It’s not your fault.” Minho looked up now, his eyes sorry. “Nobody runs away from a happy family. I was too privileged to understand what that would be like.”

 

That was unexpected. No, deep down Taemin knew Minho wasn’t the totally heartless stereotype of a knight he convinced himself to be. And acknowledging that fact only made everything more complicated.

 

Taemin stepped closer, and leant against the nearby cabinet. “You could’ve written to me, after the second time. I had the tavern as an address.”

 

“You could’ve visited Taebaek.” Minho suggested.

 

“I was lonely.”

 

“You told me you were happy.” it had been another lie, and they both knew it. “You told me being alone was freeing.”

 

“I know.”

 

They were apologising, somehow, in their own way. Taemin felt odd in the calm of their conversation, when he had become used to bickering and yelling, but not misplaced. Both of them were too young when they first met, too inexperienced when they’d crossed paths again. Minho should’ve had a more open mind, Taemin shouldn’t have been such an angsty teenager so set on blocking everything good out.

 

“Taemin.” the knight called gently, and when their eyes met he took a step closer. “I… I recognised you.”

 

He blinked. “What?”

 

“That night in the tavern, the first time I’d visited as a real knight. I recognised you the moment I saw you.” Minho explained, every word shocking him. “I was planning on going to the mountain as soon as possible, anyway. But I ran into you there instead.”

 

Why. This changed everything.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Taemin faltered, confused. “You were talking shit with your friends.”

 

“I was trying to protect you.” so simply, like it should’ve been obvious. “I didn’t know your current situation, so I was going to wait until the end of the night to approach you properly. And then you wiped my ability to recognise you, which messed up my memories. Maybe you were expecting me to go to the mountain regardless, but I couldn’t remember someone without their face. Taejoon was completely erased until I walked into that cave.”

 

“That isn’t… I didn’t mean that. The spell was supposed to make you only forget my face, not everything.” everything made sense now. This was his fault. Minho might’ve made mistakes but Taemin made the biggest of them all. “Fuck. _Fuck_.”

 

Of course he was the one to ruin it all. His sixteen year old self would’ve wanted to trust Minho no matter what was being said in front of him, but the Taemin from a year ago was a skeptical, stubborn jackass who was more concerned about the danger he’d also caused for himself. If he hadn’t made those rumours nobody would’ve demanded a witch hunt, and he and Minho could’ve reunited simply. Taemin could’ve yelled at him for leaving for three years, but that would’ve been all. Not this messed up, headache of a misunderstanding.

 

“Hey… Hey, Taemin.” Minho reached out, touching his shoulder. “I was the one who got angry and wouldn’t listen. You were just protecting yourself. You didn’t know what kind of person I’d become, and did what you thought was necessary.”

 

“That’s bullshit.” Taemin shook him off, frowning. “I should’ve trusted you.”

 

Minho’s hand moved to lightly cup his cheek. Even after all those years, and all that happened in between, Taemin’s heart raced.

 

“And I should’ve written to you. You said it before, with all the waiting I made you do I had no right to demand anything of you. Especially your trust.” the slight smell of alcohol. He blurred the past with the present. It was all the same now. Minho smiled, and it physically hurt to look at. “Although I’d like it if you could trust me now.”

 

“I kissed you.” Taemin began without thinking, and startled dumbly when he saw surprise spread across Minho’s face. “I mean, I kissed you back then because I knew I’d never see you again. Or, maybe because I wanted you to stay. Maybe both? I’m not sure anymore.”

 

Minho chuckled, and the unexpected gentleness of the sound was overwhelming. “What if I want you to stay now?”

 

Taemin grinned, despite himself. “I thought you were a traditionalist.”

 

The back door closing sounded through the house, followed by the footsteps of either Jinki or Kibum. Both men parted awkwardly, Taemin stepping impossibly closer to the cabinet until the footsteps got closer to the room and he scampered to hide beside the door. Minho threw himself into bed, pulling the sheets over him just in time for the bedroom door to quietly creak open.

 

“Minho?” Jinki’s voice whispered from the other side of the door. When he got no response, the hunter stepped back and closed the door.

 

Taemin blinked. Minho sat up and blinked back at him. He didn’t really understand why they’d done that, as if they’d nearly been caught down each other’s throats. It seemed the knight was just as clueless. Had they just been flirting? Were they going to kiss? What did Minho mean about wanting him to stay now? Heavens, all the questions were not good for his intoxicated brain.

 

Before Minho could say anything, Taemin did what he did best and avoided any further conversation by opening the door and following Jinki to their bedroom.

 

He could still imagine kissing Minho. He thought about it more often after that night, and with the realisation of his future it served as a guilty pleasure. Practicing sword fighting was useful, too, as a distraction from the distraction that was Minho and that one time they kissed versus the one (or two?) times they didn’t. And it was foolish of Taemin, to get so worked up by it all. He decided soon enough that he needed to talk to Minho, or yell at him, about it as soon as possible.

 

It was that day, when he went to the guild to approach the royal knight.

 

“Kibum’s been taken, they think he’s the dark mage.” Minho repeated when Taemin thought he’d misheard the first time. He gripped his shoulder, leaned in close so nobody else would listen in. “You have to go home, right now. Tell Jinki I’ll find out as much as I can, and come home to you right away.”

 

“I want to help--”

 

“No, you can’t.” he shook his head. “Go home, please. I’ll find a way to save him, without getting the rest of us arrested.”

 

And that was that.

 

Taemin was going with Kibum on some great adventure to the other kingdoms, and hopefully not get killed along the way.

 

Taemin’s entire future was changing, and suddenly taking over the tavern was the easiest thing he’d ever had to do.

 

He was packing for the journey in his room when Minho had stepped inside. Kibum was just about to leave, and Taemin would follow in a couple hours.

 

“Are you sure you have to go?” Minho started from the doorway, crossing his arms.

 

“Yes, Minho.” he sighed. There really wasn’t many things he needed to pack, but the process was taking so long.

 

“But Kibum is strong enough by himself.” the knight said. “Surely he doesn’t need you too?”

 

Taemin turned on the spot, and all the nerves that had been building all day were threatening to spill. “Are you saying I’m not strong enough to protect my friend?”

 

Minho scoffed. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

 

“Then what? If I’m going to be the king, I need to go and protect the kingdom.” it felt easier to say than he thought, even if the sincerity wasn’t there quite yet. “Unless you think I’m not strong enough to be king, either?”

 

“You don’t have to be king, Taemin.”

 

“What?” he stepped back, not believing what he was hearing. “Look, I’m sorry I’m not a great noble like you. I know literally anyone else here would making a better king than me. I _know_. And if you really hate me wearing the crown then we can just assassinate me, too.”

 

Minho closed the door behind him, as if it could do anything to improve the situation. “Heavens, Taemin. Not everything is a fucking attack against you, so stop twisting my words.”

 

“No, that’s what I’m hearing.” Taemin breathed, anger rising with the hurt. “You think Kibum will do just fine by himself. You don’t see the point in me going.”

 

“That’s not--” the knight opened the door again. “Whatever, Taemin.”

 

And Minho walked out.

 

Saying goodbye to Jinki was harder than he wanted to admit. Minho stood stubbornly to the side, and he pointedly ignored him. He was ready to walk out the door without saying goodbye, and that’s exactly what he did. Taemin felt the rush of pain in his chest when he was roughly three steps out the door, and two steps later he heard someone rush outside behind him.

“Sorry I was a jerk earlier.” Minho.

 

Taemin turned to face the knight, and shrugged. “Why? You’ve always been a jerk.”

 

“So have you.” was the retort, and both men found themselves smiling. “I know I sounded bad, and I lost my temper instead of explaining myself.”

 

“Right.”

 

“Right.” Minho rubbed his neck, biting his lip. “Look, I’m worried about you. I don’t want you or Kibum risking your lives and I would much rather be the one leaving.”

 

That was it. Minho was always the one leaving. Now, it was Taemin’s turn.

 

The knight continued. “And what I said, about not being king… I don’t want you to force yourself into such a heavy position if it’ll make you unhappy.”

 

Misunderstandings were their speciality. Taemin was the best at jumping to conclusions.

 

“You’re right, I don’t want to be king.” he admitted aloud. “But I’ll do it. I’ll go with Kibum, comeback to kill Hyunmin, and then I’ll take the throne. Because it’s the right thing to do. I know you’re worried, but you don’t have to be. We’re going to be fine.”

 

They stared at each other for a moment, the night around the so still compared to the hectic few hours they’d just experienced. Minho hovered at the door, Taemin at the bottom of the stairs. Perhaps he could imagine walking up those stairs and kissing the dumb knight’s dumb face, but he wasn’t going to. There were many years between them, but in many ways they still didn’t know each other. Didn’t know themselves.

 

And he really didn’t have time to think about it, with the current state of the kingdom.

 

“Well, I have to go… So…” Taemin robotically turned towards the horse, set to leave. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

 

“Okay.” Minho stood by the door. “I’ll stay here.”

 

Taemin didn’t want this one person to mean so much to him. In that moment he wished Minho had never told him the truth, about how he’d recognised him. He should’ve kept that image of an arrogant knight, instead of confusing him like he did.

 

He still sucked at goodbyes.

 

Being the one to leave should’ve made it easier, gratifying almost. No, Taemin felt incredibly uneasy as he rode his horse away from that house and into the woods.

 

Into danger, his new future.

 

Less than two months later, Taemin achieved exactly what he’d promised. He sat on the throne, the crown on his head, and watched as a room filled with strangers bowed for their new king. He felt all of it. Uncertainty. Excitement. Fear.

 

King Taemin stands before his people and feels the weight of it all.

 

The noble boy, the runaway, the bartender, the dark mage.

 

“Long live the king.”

 

The king.

 

And in the front row of his people, is the king’s knight. Minho pulls up from his bow, and smiles when their eyes meet. Their kingdom is still in strife, and it’s going to take a lot of work to get it back to how it should be. Yet even with the shadows lurking in the corners, the evil and the darkness that threatens to spill, his thought in that moment is of only one thing. The sun rising, red and orange and blue and white. The capitol slowly being covered in light, street by street. The people within it who he wants to protect.

 

Where darkness resides, the sun will always rise.

 

Taemin’s going to make sure of it.

  



End file.
